


Day 19 - Tired

by GemmaRose



Series: OC-tober [10]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Injury, M/M, Rescue Missions, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27182257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: Battles are exhausting. Seeing his conjunx again is worth it, though. Getting him back is worth everything.
Relationships: Original Cybertronian Character(s)/Original Cybertronian Character(s)
Series: OC-tober [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1958275
Kudos: 4





	Day 19 - Tired

Calidus leaned against the wall, venting in measured cycles as he pressed a hand to the gash up his side. Every ex-vent hurt like an absolute scrapheap, but melting the severed halves of his slats together would hurt worse.

“How is it-” he grumbled, pushing off the wall and checking the building schematics on his HUD. “That getting my fragging arm shot off hurt less than being _stabbed_?”

“Easy.” Rack said from his defensive position at Calidus’s side. “Once your arm was off you couldn’t feel it hurting anymore.”

“That doesn’t sound right, but I don’t know enough about sensornets to dispute it.” Calidus managed a ragged laugh. “We’re getting close.”

“I’ll scout ahead.” Ruin volunteered, and Calidus nodded approval. He could feel Geronimo through their sparkbond, unconscious but alive. He was close, but with him unconscious Calidus couldn’t tell _where_.

“There’s no guards ahead.” Ripon said, slotting himself in against Calidus’s side, careful of his injured vent. “Ruin’s checking doors.”

“Rack, go join him.” Calidus ordered, letting himself lean on Ripon. “The faster we find Geronimo, the sooner we can all go home.”

“Yessir.” Rack nodded, and hurried ahead. Thankfully it wasn’t long before Ripon straightened up minutely, a sure sign that he’d gotten something from the bond he shared with his brothers.

“They found him.” he said, and Calidus pulled himself up as tall as he could, gathering every volt of energy in his frame to stride forward.

“In here, Sir.” Rack and Ruin said in synch, gesturing to an open door. Calidus stepped inside, and reflexively flared fire from his seams at the biting cold. This was an operating room, unmistakably. Tools laid abandoned around Geronimo’s helm, which was strapped down with a thick black line drawn across his forehelm and over the top between his audials. On the other berth, a medic had been strapped down the same way, though his helm had already been carved open to reveal the processor within.

“See if that one’s alive.” Calidus ordered, pointing at the medic. The mech was plenty big, and forged medics were stronger than they looked. If Geronimo couldn’t walk, they’d need this other medic to carry him. Assuming that they agreed to help, but considering the Council had cut their processor open Calidus was pretty sure that was a safe bet. Ripon and Ruin hopped to, and Calidus turned his attention to Geronimo, heating one of his hands to melt open the thick durasteel bindings which held his conjunx in place.

“Geronimo.” he said softy, touching his other hand to his conjunx’s face, reaching out through their sparkbond. “Geronimo, wake up.”

“Toss me the welding torch.” Ruin said, and Calidus glanced over his shoulder to see the pair getting the missing chunk of the big medic’s helm at least nominally back in place, working carefully under flared, jointed panels which Calidus could only assume were some sort of emotive kibble. He’d need more cranial fluid, but not immediately.

“Who needs cranial fluid?”

Calidus’s doorwings shot up as he turned back to his conjunx, wrenching the final binding open and pulling Geronimo up into a tight hug.

“Oof, Cal. Cal, I’m fine.” Geronimo wheezed, pulling away enough to look him up and down. “You look like slag.”

“Just tired, ‘s all.” he fibbed, angling his frame to keep his fragged up vent out of Geronimo’s sight. It hurt, but it could wait. “You’re the one who got caught. Are you okay?”

“My primary motivator’s damn near shot.” he grimaced. “Minimal response from my major servos, and no fine control at all.”

“Good thing the big guy’s up and running.” Ripon announced. “Hey, what’s your name?”

Calidus turned to watch the mech sit up, keeping one arm around Geronimo. The medic somehow looked bigger now that he was upright, but aside from his frametype he wasn’t particularly remarkable. Calidus couldn’t actually recall seeing a convoy medic before, but their frametype was a versatile one even under Functionist doctrine. Then his optics came on, and Calidus found himself struck silent. Okay, _those_ were unique, as were the matching biolights that decorated not only his frame but the panels flexing over his helm.

“I-” the medic frowned, his field broadcasting confusion and concern. “I don’t know.”

“Well, scrap.” Calidus said. “Good news, if the Council had your processor wiped I’m sure you didn’t agree with them anyways.”

“How is that good news?” the mech frowned harder.

“Because it means you’re not leaving anything behind worth missing.” Calidus stood, pulling Geronimo up off the berth. The pain in his busted vent redoubled, and he valiantly bit back a hiss, though from Geronimo’s flare of concern in their bond it didn’t help any. “Carry him, we’re getting out of here.”

“Why should I do that?” the medic asked, and Geronimo chuckled.

“Because you’re a medic.” he said plainly. “You help people. And my conjunx and I need help.”

The nameless mech spat a curse, and reached down to lift Geronimo into his arms. “I hate that you know me better than I do.” he grumbled, and Geronimo laughed.

“Give it time, big guy.”

“Alright.” Calidus slapped his hands together, laced his fingers, and stretched his arms out in front of himself, shaking out the pain tension which had set in since entering the building. “Drop him, and I’m taking his patches out of your plating.” he threatened, and Geronimo’s fond exasperation buoyed him more than he could say. “Rack, Ruin, Ripon.” he strode out of the room with his helm held high. “Let’s blow this joint.”

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to any not-logged-in readers, but due to an ex who refuses to leave me alone I have had to disable anon comments. Kudos are still open though, and if you want to scream (or would like me to write a fic for you) come check me out on Pillowfort! No account required to get my discord, and I'm always happy to chat. [[Link](https://www.pillowfort.social/GemmaRose)]


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